


Seeing for the first time

by jadztone



Series: Sherlock Nanowrimo [16]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, First Kiss, Henry is just a doll in this, Remember that disgusting CIA worm Neilson?, We're gonna take that mofo down for good, post-tab
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 05:30:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11396301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jadztone/pseuds/jadztone
Summary: Sherlock and Molly have an interesting conversation regarding his depiction of her in his Victorian mind palace.  But Sherlock doesn't actually confront his feelings until she is placed in mortal danger and he has no control over the situation.





	1. The Invisible Woman

**Author's Note:**

> This is part of a series of stories I wrote for Nanowrimo and posted on my tumbler page, sherlock-nanowrimo.tumblr.com. I was doing a story a day, generally leaving them open-ended if I wanted to add on to the story later in the month. The ones that I did add on to will be posted on AO3 as multiple chapters. They will all be posted as complete, with no expectation that I will ever revisit them. I haven't changed them from the way they were posted on tumblr, they have their issues, but I like to think of them as diamonds in the rough. The stories contain multiple crossovers with other fandoms, and multiple ships.

Molly peered through the microscope and scribbled some notes on the pad. She switched slides and examined the new contents.  Interesting. She checked her notes again, then back to the microscope.  She heard the door open.  “I’ll be just another minute, Donna.”

She heard a crackling noise and realized it was her bag of crisps.  “I promise I didn’t spoil lunch, I just got a bit…”  She looked up, but instead of Donna, it was Sherlock.  “…peckish.”  She couldn’t help but smile at him.  But then she remembered, and her smile faded.  “Sorry, thought you were someone I’m meeting for lunch.”

“Then you won’t need these.”  He began eating the crisps.  

Molly stared at him.  “You’re eating?  While on a case?”

“How do you know I’m on a case?”  He took another crisp.

“I’ve seen Moriarty on my TV screen saying, ‘Did you miss me?’so of course you’re on a case.  Not to mention that you’re here, aren’t you?  Usually when you come to the lab you’re in the midst of a deep thought process and you don’t eat anything.”

Sherlock nodded thoughtfully.  “I am on the Moriarty case, yes.  But that’s not why I’m here.  I’m here to see you.”

Normally this would have made her flush with pleasure, but she was too annoyed. His face showed the effects of his recent drug use, confirming what Mary had told her when they talked yesterday. Molly understood that he’d just gone through a hellish experience – he’d killed a man, spent a week in jail while the government decided his fate, and was to have been shipped off to what amounted to a death sentence.  If anything was going to cause someone to fall off the wagon, it would be that. But she couldn’t help but be deeply disappointed.  Not only was he destroying himself, but the possibility that he could overdose and really die….  Molly took a deep breath.  “What do you want to see me about?”

Sherlock sat on the stool next to her.  “Have you been told about what happened on the jet?”

Molly’s expression was stony.  “You mean the ridiculous amounts of drugs that you took?  Yes, I heard about it.”  She turned away from him and began to pack up her things into her bag.

“I don’t mean about that, I mean about how I was in my mind palace attempting to solve a case from 1895.”

Molly slammed her notebook into the bag.  “I don’t care to hear about whatever nonsense you got up to while you were tripping on drugs.”

“But Molly, you were there, and…”

She turned to him and shouted, “I said I don’t care!”  He blinked and leaned back a bit.   She exhaled.  “I’m not going to slap you again.  It’s not like it worked the first time.”

Molly folded her arms.  “I’ve put up with a lot from you, Sherlock.  Your coldness, your unvarnished remarks about my appearance and my personal life, your false compliments whenever you wanted something from me, your taking me for granted.  It was all worth it when you finally trusted me to help you in your darkest hour.  We turned a corner in our friendship.”  She screwed up her face.  “But that just made it all the harder to see what you were capable of doing to yourself.  The crazy thing is that you’re not even being self-destructive.   It’s just another method to achieve your ends.”  She started to pace back and forth.  “It’s one thing to see you being indifferent to me, it’s quite another to see you be indifferent to yourself.  That’s worse, so much worse.  I can stop you from hurting me, but I can’t stop you from hurting your mind and your body.”  Molly’s face crumpled and tears came out.

The door to the lab opened and a red-haired woman came in.  Donna.  “Oh! Molly, is everything okay?”

Sherlock jumped up and put his arm around Molly.  “Um, as you can see, we’re having a bit of a domestic.  I’m afraid Molly can’t have lunch with you today.”  Molly elbowed him in the ribs, hard. “Oof. See?”

Donna narrowed her eyes and folded her arms.  “Oi, you want I should punch him in the nose for you?”

Molly couldn’t help but smile.  “I’ll be fine, Donna, thank you.  I’m sorry about lunch, maybe tomorrow?”

Donna smiled pleasantly.  “Of course, I look forward to it.  I’ll just go get a sandwich, then.  I’ll bring you back one, too.  This one doesn’t look like the type to buy you lunch.”  She gave Sherlock the onceover, her expression disapproving, then turned and walked out the lab.

Sherlock turned to Molly, who had shoved his arm off her shoulder.  “What did she mean by that?”

“She means that you look like a junkie who couldn’t afford to buy me a sandwich.”

Sherlock looked slightly offended, then resigned.  “I suppose she’s right.”  He looked down at the bag of crisps.  “I suppose you’ll want these back?”

Molly sighed.  “No, keep them.  You need food to keep up your strength while you’re going through withdrawal. “

He ate a crisp.  “That was a very maternal thing to say to me.  Does that mean you still care?”

“Oh Sherlock, of course I still care.  It’s just damaging to my heart.”

Sherlock looked pensive.  “I seem to have been doing that to you a lot over the years.  Damaging your heart.  I’m sorry.  I don’t want to drive you away, you matter to me.”

She shook her head.  “I only did when Moriarty was after you.  Precisely because he thought I didn’t matter.”

“You still matter.”

She shrugged one shoulder.  “I can’t think why.”

“I never really had many friends in my life.  I tend to scare away people easily.  My lack of relationships proved useful in staying focused on my work, so I wasn’t too concerned.  On the rare occasions I met people who weren’t scared off – like you and Lestrade – I had no desire to take it further because I didn’t want to be distracted.  John changed all that.  I couldn’t keep him at arm’s length, he was living with me.  The forced proximity and the fact that he actually seemed to like me, well it changed something in me.  I began to see relationships differently.  I’ve begun to really appreciate the people who do stick around.  To value them not just for what they can do for me, but for how they enrich my life.” Sherlock paused to eat some more crisps.

Molly blinked at him.  It was extraordinary to hear Sherlock say such things.  “You’ve spent a lot of time with John and Mary.  Has that changed your view on romantic relationships?”

Sherlock reached into the bag for a crisp, but it was empty.  Looking disappointed, he balled it up and tossed it in a nearby bin.  “Only to reinforce my realization about the value of relationships.  I can see how much John and Mary mean to each other and I can appreciate that bond.  In terms of wanting one for myself, I’m afraid that I am still very much of the opinion that it would cloud my judgment, prove a distraction.  With friends, I get the benefits of companionship, but still have my own time and my own space that is mine alone.  In a romantic relationship, the obligations are different.  There’s more accountability to each other, and that would interfere with my work too much. “

She shouldn’t have felt disappointed, because she had long given up on thinking there would ever be anything between them.  “I’m confused, though.  What about Irene Adler?  Didn’t you have a relationship with her before she disappeared?”

He gave her a startled look.  “Adler? I was never romantically involved with her.”

“But you were having sex with her.”  Sherlock raised one eyebrow questioningly.  “That time in the morgue, your familiarity with her naked body.  Well, what you thought was her body.”

“She was an exhibitionist that paraded around in front of me in order to gain the upper hand.  She was also gay.”

“Are you?” Molly blurted.  

Sherlock exhaled in annoyance.  “Why is everyone always so preoccupied with other people’s sexual preferences?  If I answer your question, can we finally discuss why I came here today?”

Molly considered it a moment.  “Of course.”

“Okay.  Let’s get them all over with in one go.”  He ticked off his statements on his fingers.  “I identify as a male.  I am heterosexual.  I do have sexual urges.  I am attracted to any woman that is my general type, I don’t have to know them. The first thing I tend to notice after the face are the breasts.  I certainly noticed yours when you were wearing that dress at the Christmas party.” He took a deep breath.  “And none of that was relevant at all because I don’t act on any of it.  Sex is too much of a distraction.”

Molly’s mouth gaped.  “You noticed my breasts?  The dress…worked?”

“If it was just to get me to notice you, yes.  If it was to get me to act, no.  Unlike Lestrade, whose jaw had to be picked up off the floor, I concentrated instead on the other clues about you that would tell me what you were up to that night.”

“Yes, I do remember that bit of humiliation.”

“I am still sorry for it.  I was already uncomfortable with that many people in my flat, socializing.”  He said the last word with a grimace.  “Then you walked in with your breasts up to here, wowing everyone in the room, I needed something to bring me back to my comfort zone.”

“The science of deduction.”

“Correct.”

“I seem to recall during your deduction that you said negative things about my breasts. And my mouth.  That I had to compensate for them.”

Sherlock looked away.  “I may have been irritated that I kept noticing them even as I was making my deduction.  I did after all get a major part of it wrong - about who the gift was for.”

Molly couldn’t help the little glow of pleasure that spread inside her at the knowledge that she had rattled Sherlock.  Of course, he’d been a total asshole about it, but it was still flattering.

She pulled up a stool and sat down on it.  “Okay, tell me about your mind palace thing.”

Sherlock was pleased.  He also pulled up a stool and sat down.   He gave her a brief rundown of the mystery and how it was solved.  “When I was reviewing it all in my head later, I realized that everyone was pretty much the same as they are in real life.  Except you.  Well, and Mycroft.  But the only difference for him was that he was very, very fat.”

Molly giggled.  “Okay, how was I different?”

“Well since it was 1895, medical examiners tended to be men.  I should have just made you a man in my scenario. Instead you were still a woman, but was pretending to be a man.  It fit with the narrative of the mystery – women pretending to be something else in order to achieve their independence.”

“That all makes sense.  Pretty cool, actually, having everyone at St. Bart’s fooled into thinking I’m a man.   Except for Sherlock Holmes, who saw right through me.”

“That’s just it, Molly.  I didn’t see through you. John figured it out, but I hadn’t a clue.”

She frowned.  “Interesting.”

“That’s why I’m here, I hoped you could help me figure out why I would have you dressed as a man and unable to realize it’s a disguise.”

Molly gave a self-deprecating smile.  “Maybe that was part of the point.  The invisible woman, not even Sherlock can see the real me beneath the superficial trappings.”

Sherlock looked at her sharply.  “The real you?”

“The womanly me.  I mean, I don’t wear suits and cut my hair short and wear a fake mustache.  But I do tend to wear loose, slouchy trousers and cardigans that deemphasize my figure.  Maybe it was why you reacted so strongly when you saw me in that dress.”

Sherlock tapped a finger against his lips.  “You know, I think you may be right.  My mind palace was calling back to that Christmas party incident in setting the scene.”  He smiled widely.  “Well done, Molly!  You continue to be more perceptive than I give you credit for.”

She blushed.  “Thanks. Not that perceptive, though.  I never had a clue that you actually were attracted to me.  Well, once anyways.”

Sherlock stood up and went over to where Molly was sitting, and leaned in to whisper in her ear.  “More than once.”  Startled, Molly turned her head so she could see his face.  He gazed into her eyes.  “That time you slapped me repeatedly because of the test results? That really turned me on.”  He straightened up.  “I guess you can add that to the list of my sexual preferences.” He turned away and whistled as he left the lab.  


	2. True Grit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some undetermined time after the previous chapter. Maybe just a few months.

Sherlock practically skipped up the stairs leading to 221B Baker Street.  He’d gotten a very good lead on his latest case.  He’d follow up on it tomorrow using his homeless network. As he approached the door to the flat, he heard voices inside.  Had Mrs. Hudson let some clients in while he was away?  He opened the door and to his surprise, he saw John, Mary, Greg, and Molly sitting there.  They looked up at him, their expressions grave.  “Oh god, please tell me this isn’t some sort of intervention.”

John cracked a tiny smile and stood up.  “It sort of is, but you’re not the one we’re trying to intervene against.”

Sherlock raised one eyebrow. “Explain.”  

Molly, who had been sitting in his chair, jumped up and went over to the sofa.  “Why don’t you sit down, Sherlock and we’ll tell you all about it.”

This was definitely bizarre. He went over to his chair and sat in it. He caught a whiff of something. Oh great.  Molly’s perfume.  Now the chair would smell like her.  Well, at least it was a pleasant scent.  Quite pleasant, actually.  “Alright, I’m sitting.  Now tell me what it is you’re plotting.”

Mary, who was sitting in John’s chair, cleared her throat.  “Well, you know how Mycroft’s been acting distracted lately?”

Sherlock nodded.  “It usually means he’s involved in some big project.”

“Yes!  Exactly.  Well, I couldn’t help but be curious what he might be up to, so I hacked into his mobile.”

Sherlock gave her an exasperated look.  “He really should just go ahead and hire you to overhaul the security system.”

She shrugged.  “I know.  Anyway, I found out that he’s been involved in negotiations regarding a CIA assassination.  The CIA want to hit their target in London, because that’s where he’ll be next, and Mycroft doesn’t want the UK involved.    They’ve tentatively agreed that it would happen on the target’s next stop after London. I was curious about the details of how they were going to do it, given my background, so I dug a little further.”

Sherlock held up his hand. “Umm, you do realize that Molly and Greg are in the room.”

Mary looked over at them. “I’ve taken them into my confidence and told them that I was a CIA agent that put me in proximity to similar types of missions.” She gave Sherlock a significant look that said that was all she’d told them.  “Given the magnitude of the circumstances, I felt they should know so they better understand what we’re up against.  I know you trust them, so I do as well.”  Sherlock nodded for her to continue.  “Anyway, a key part of their plan is that they have to be really careful that it doesn’t look like an assassination.  The fallout if it were obviously murder would be much too severe.  So the idea was that they were going to poison him and make it look like natural causes.”

Mary took a deep breath. “I saw some things that didn’t make sense, so I went the extra mile and I hacked into the CIA.  I still have a backdoor entry I created.  There were some communications there that excluded Mycroft.  The agent directing the plan is someone you know – Ted Neilson.  According to John and Greg, you’ve had a couple of run-ins with him regarding Irene Adler.  He despised you for ruining their Bond Air plan.  I know Neilson as well.  I used to work with him.  He was the reason I left and went free…changed my identity.  He has an entirely different plan for the assassination. The target is currently in the UK and he’s going to be at a fundraising event on Saturday night.  They are planning to hit him there, and they aren’t going to poison him.  It’s going to be a sniper hit, because they very much want it to look like murder.  They are going to frame someone for it, and kill two birds with one stone.”

Sherlock smiled coldly. “Let me guess.  I’m their second bird.”  Mary nodded.  “And who is the main target?  I assume it is someone I would theoretically want dead, which would provide the motive.”

Mary sighed.  “You’re absolutely right.  It’s Baron Maupertuis.”

Sherlock nodded.  “Ah yes.  Of course.  The last link to Moriarty’s network I was working on when Mycroft called me back to London.  I can see why he didn’t want the Baron killed here.  He wanted to prevent the very thing that Neilson is hoping to accomplish.”

Sherlock stood up and started pacing the room.  He happened to glance over at Molly.  She had a terrified expression on her face.  She met his gaze and spoke softly.  “Greg told me about the time you had him arrested.  He told me what that man did to Mrs. Hudson, and that was just trying to get information from her.  This time he’s after blood.  He’s evil, Sherlock.”  

Sherlock shook his head dismissively. “He’s an idiot.  I don’t understand why he would be so stupid as to try and frame me for murder. Mycroft would never let him get away with it.”

John spoke up.  “He wouldn’t have a say, Sherlock.  That’s the beauty of his plan.  You may have done some great things for this country, but you’ve also caused a lot of trouble.  You ruined Bond Air, which was a complex and very expensive mission. You murdered Magnussen, who was not only a wealthy expatriate but also someone who was considered very useful. His death was a significant loss to the intelligence community.  If Neilson succeeds in making it look like you murdered the Baron, the consequences would be catastrophic to diplomatic relations.  That’s three strikes and you’re out.”

Mary chimed in.  “And not just you.  Mycroft would go down, too.”

Sherlock sat back down in his chair.  “So I’m guessing you’re all here to come up with a plan to stop it.  What I don’t understand is why Molly is here and Mycroft isn’t.”  He looked over at Molly.  “No offense, Molly.  I can understand Lestrade being here for Scotland Yard.  But why you?  The odds are quite against another lookalike corpse turning up that we can switch out.”

Mary spoke up. “Sherlock, we’ve already come up with a plan.  We’re here to tell you what it is.  I haven’t told Mycroft what I found because he would try to stop the plan before the event, and if that happens it is highly unlikely that there’d be enough proof to put Neilson away.  Because that’s what needs to happen.  It’s not enough to stop them from framing you.  Neilson needs to go down for good.”

Sherlock chuckled. “You came up with a plan without me or Mycroft?  This should be interesting.  Still waiting to hear Molly’s role.”

Molly spoke up.  “The event where the hit is supposed to take place is a fundraiser for St. Bart’s.  I’m the only one out of all of us that has a legitimate reason to be at the event.  The CIA will be going through the guest list thoroughly and will be highly suspicious of additions.  Greg is going to be my date.  It’s plausible, we interact on cases and have lunch together frequently.”

Sherlock frowned. That was news.  He wondered if they were dating.  No, they were sitting together, but their body language was not that of a couple.  “What exactly are you and Greg planning to do there?”

Greg nodded towards Mary. “She’s going to study the building plans and the itinerary for the evening and based on her experience and understanding of Neilson’s typical M.O., she’ll determine what is likely the best place and time that the hit would happen.  Molly and I will find where he’s setting up, take pictures and then stop him before he pulls the trigger.  We have to catch him in the act or he’ll never be convicted.  I know that from experience.”  He muttered the last part.  

Sherlock shook his head. “No, I don’t like it.  Molly can’t be involved, too dangerous.”

Molly blinked.  “I have to be, Sherlock.  Like we said, I’m the only one with a legitimate reason to be there.”

Sherlock waved his hand. “Get him into the party if you must, but then leave immediately.  You can’t be the one helping Greg to catch Neilson.  It’s. too. dangerous.”  He bit off the last few words.

Greg spread his hands. “Look, I understand your concern. The thing is, there will be lookouts everywhere and I can’t be seen wandering around this event by myself. It would look too suspicious.  If Molly is with me, we’ll always have the plausible explanation that we’re looking for a private place to snog.” Molly suppressed a giggle at this.

Sherlock narrowed his eyes at her.  “You think this is funny, Molly?  A lark? You’ll be surprising a dangerous man with a sniper rifle.  There’s nothing funny about any of this.  And it’s out of the question.”

Greg gave him an incredulous look.  “Are you saying you can’t trust me to protect Molly and make sure she’s out of danger?”

Sherlock pinched the bridge of his nose.  How could he put this delicately?  “Greg, of course I trust you.  But there are numerous ways this could go wrong.  And you might not be able to process and account for all the possibilities in time to take the correct course of action.  It would be better if I were the one who catches him, because my reaction time would be quicker.  Yes! That’s it!”  Sherlock smiled. “I’ll be Molly’s date.  It’s more plausible anyway, everyone knows she has a crush on me, not Greg.”  He chuckled.

Sherlock looked around at everyone. Molly simply folded her arms and looked away.  The others were shaking their heads vigorously.  Mary spoke up.  “Sherlock, we already have a plan for your part in all this, and it involves you being as far away from the event as possible.  Neilson noted in his strategy that you almost always spend your evenings at 221B by yourself.  It’s important to him that you have no alibi for the time of the murder.  If you actually attended the event, that would work even more in his favor.  No, you need to be in the company of someone all evening, preferably an upstanding citizen whose word wouldn’t be questioned, in someplace very public.  If the other part of our plan messes up in any way and the Baron is assassinated, you need as airtight an alibi as possible.”

Sherlock took deep breaths as he processed everything they were telling him.  All their arguments were logical, every decision rational. It all made sense.  It was a good plan.  Except…except that Molly and Greg were endangering themselves for his sake. Greg was a cop, he was used to it, but Molly…he couldn’t let her risk her life for him.  It was one thing to help him fake his death.  This time she would literally be in the line of fire. He looked over at her.  She smiled reassuringly.  “Sherlock, Greg will take good care of me.  And I promise not to do anything reckless.  Greg will do all the work, I’ll only accompany him right up to the general area where Neilson will be set up.  Then I’ll find some place to hide.”

Sherlock closed his eyes. He didn’t like this, not at all. But he couldn’t come up with an argument to change their minds.  Not now, anyway.  “Fine, I’ll go along with the plan.”  He heard collective sighs of relief.  He felt a couple of hands squeezing his shoulders.  Mary tried to hug him, not very successfully with her big belly.  He felt a hand slip into his and hold tightly. He opened his eyes and saw Molly kneeling on the floor looking up at him. He saw relief in her eyes.  He hoped that when this was all done there wouldn’t be a bullet between them.

The night of the fundraiser, Sherlock was pacing back and forth in 221B.  He was dressed for an evening out and was planning to meet Henry Knight at one of Sherlock’s favorite restaurants where the owner and wait staff all knew him by name.  It had been fortuitous that Henry was coming into town and had asked if he wanted to meet up.  Normally Sherlock would have brushed him off.  He liked Henry well enough, but he avoided socializing.  

In case any CIA agents were planning to watch the flat to make sure he stays in and has no alibi, Sherlock had set up a mannequin next to the window, to be backlit by the lamp. To all appearances it would look like he was reading the entire night.

Sherlock looked at his watch.  He still had an hour before he was supposed to meet Henry.  But only half an hour from now, Molly and Greg would be setting off for the fundraiser.  The more he thought about Molly being in the same room with Neilson, with the man who had physically abused the elderly Mrs. Hudson, the more he was convinced it was a terrible idea.  He decided to go to Molly’s flat and try to come up with some other tactic that didn’t involve her being in danger.

Sherlock knocked on the door to Molly’s flat.  As it swung open, he heard Molly say, “Oh Greg, you’re here early!”  She gave him a startled look.  “Sherlock!”  

Sherlock blinked as he took her in.  As with the Christmas party years ago, she was dressed up to accentuate her body. Back then it had been a party dress. This was a formal gown.  She managed to look both elegant and very sexy. Once more he found himself trying not to focus on her breasts.  “Molly, I’m here to change your mind about participating in this.”

She sighed in exasperation. “Oh Sherlock!  Get in here!”  She grabbed his arm and pulled him inside.  Her action caused him to stumble on the threshold and he grabbed her bare shoulder to steady himself.  He let go quickly.  

“Molly, please don’t go anywhere near Neilson.  Just get Lestrade into the party and then leave!”

“Sherlock, you know that would raise suspicion.  We have to do everything we can to look normal.”

Sherlock growled in frustration.  “If only I could be there!  Do you know how much I hate that I have to be on the other side of town while this is happening?  My friends will be in danger and I have NO control over the situation.”

Molly came over and rubbed his arms with her hands.  “Sherlock, I understand.  I do. But you have to trust us.  It worked out perfectly when you faked your death. This will work, too.”

Sherlock put his hands on her shoulders as he tried to think of more alternatives.  “Maybe we can just let him kill the Baron.  Just steer clear of him altogether.  I’ll be across town with Henry, I’ll have my alibi.  That will be enough.”  Without even realizing it, he had started to rub her shoulder blades with his thumbs.

Molly took a deep breath, her cheeks tinged pink.  “You know that it isn’t enough that you aren’t implicated.  We have to catch him in the act so he can be prosecuted and punished.  If he goes free, he’ll just come up with more plans to take you down.”  Her voice was a little shaky and he could feel goosebumps forming on the flesh under his thumbs.

Sherlock looked into her eyes, and found himself wanting to kiss her.  He wasn’t sure where that idea came from.  Wait, of course! If he kissed her, it would lower her defenses and she’d agree to stop this foolishness.  He tilted his head down and touched his lips to hers.  He heard her soft whimper as she leaned into him and deepened the kiss. It was interesting how different it felt to kiss her as opposed to Janine.  Janine was a very attractive woman, and he’d felt that attraction when he kissed her. But this one was…somehow more intimate.  Maybe because he cared about Molly more?  Or maybe because this kiss felt more genuine on his part. Sherlock pulled back, startled by this revelation.  

Molly took a deep, shuddering breath, and then she glared at him.  “I know why you did that, Sherlock! You must be pretty desperate to go that far to manipulate me.  It’s not going to work!  Just go meet Henry.”  She folded her arms, a defensive gesture.  It served to emphasize her breasts even more.  

He turned away from her. He needed to concentrate.  “Why would you put yourself in this much danger, Molly?  For me? I’m constantly behaving like an arse to you.  Either insulting you because I have no filter, or complimenting you to get what I want.  And I keep disappointing you every time I take narcotics.  I mean, I’ve told you how much I appreciate that you are willing to be friends with someone like me who is pretty terrible at this friendship thing. But what you’re doing is endangering your life.  I don’t understand, Molly.  Help me understand.”

Molly lifted one shoulder. “Sherlock, I…I probably shouldn’t tell you this.  It’ll make you run for the hills.  On second thought, that’d be a good thing because then you’d finally leave and go meet Henry.”  She exhaled and lifted her chin.  “Sherlock, I’m in love with you.  I don’t have hopes that you’ll love me in return.  I know you too well for that.  But loving you means that the most important thing in the world to me is that you be alive and well and doing what made me fall in love with you in the first place – helping people.  You talk about being on the other side of town not being able to control what happens, don’t you think I would feel the same way if I were prevented from being involved?  You have to let me do this, Sherlock.  It would be cruel if you didn’t.”

Sherlock stared at her in amazement.  He wasn’t amazed by what she told him.  He’d pretty much known that her feelings went deeper than a mere crush.  What amazed him was his reaction.  He was about to try and analyze it when the doorbell rang.  

Molly went to the door and answered it.  He heard Greg exclaim, “Jesus, Molly, you look incredible!”  She laughed.  “I think I’d probably really enjoy tonight if it weren’t for the whole assassination plot thing.”  Greg stepped inside and put his hand on her waist and kissed her on the temple.  Then he saw Sherlock standing there. “Sherlock!  Shouldn’t you be meeting your friend?”

A random thought popped into Sherlock’s head that he never did get to dance with Molly at John’s wedding. She’d been with Tom, then.  Would she dance with Greg tonight?  “Uh, yes, I was just going.  Good luck, the two of you.”  He went over and put a hand on Greg’s shoulder.  “Please take care of Molly.  And yourself.  No matter what, if you don’t succeed I will still have my alibi.  We can get him some other time.  No stupid risks.  Please.”

Greg pulled him into a hug.   “I promise.  I’ll call you the minute it’s all over.”

Sherlock nodded, then reluctantly left the flat.

A half hour later he was sitting down to dinner with Henry.  He hadn’t told Henry the reason why he agreed to meet up, and the young man was ridiculously happy that he’d said yes.  Henry happily chatted away about the goings on in Dartmoor.  

Sherlock only listened with half an ear, surreptitiously checking his mobile from time to time. Mary had determined that the attempt would likely happen later in the evening, when an auction was taking place, and the wealthier participants had special seating.  That meant plenty of time for Molly and Greg to dance. Sherlock tried to occupy his mind with playing out various scenarios in his head of the outcome, but to his surprise, his mind kept wandering to Molly.  Mentally he was taking Greg’s place and was dancing with her in his arms. It wasn’t just the dancing bit that appealed to him.  He loved the thrill of the chase, of being on the verge of hunting down a criminal.  

That time Molly spent the day with him working on cases, nothing had come up that involved danger or running, like what usually happened with John.  He never experienced that surge of adrenaline with her alongside him. What would that be like?  To be holding her in his arms one moment, and stalking his prey the next.  Sherlock suddenly realized that he was completely hard.  He shifted his chair forward so that he was closer to the table and used a monumental amount of effort to focus on what Henry was saying.

He realized that Henry wasn’t saying anything, rather was regarding him quizzically.  Shit, did he notice?  “It looks like your mind was wandering, Sherlock.”

“Oh, uh sorry?  I… yeah, there’s something that’s been on my mind, hard to let go.”

Henry smirked.  “You do that a lot, and usually it’s when you’re dwelling on a case.  But I don’t think it’s that.  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say it’s a woman.  Or a man.”  He shrugged.

Sherlock laughed faintly. “Ah, but you do know me better. I’m all about my work.  I don’t spend my time mooning about women.”

“Not even The Woman? I’ve read John’s blog of course.”

Sherlock toyed with his fork.  “Irene Adler. I did moon over her, I suppose, but not in the way you’d think.  You know what she did for a living, right?”

Henry’s ears tinged pink. “Ah, yes, I did google her after reading John’s blog.”

Sherlock nodded.  “She made her living using her sexual prowess. But what most people didn’t know was how clever she was.  She was quite a challenge, intellectually, and that’s where she affected me.”  He pointed to his brain.  “I mean, in the same sense you could say I also mooned over Moriarty.  I get excited by the prospect of a worthy adversary.  Not romance.”

Henry shook his head in confusion.  “Couldn’t you have had both with Ms. Adler?  How did she feel about you?”

Sherlock stared off into the distance.  “She had feelings for me.  When I realized it, I just filed it away as useful information.  And I did use that information later to derail her blackmail plans.  As I told her, sentiment is a chemical defect found on the losing side.”

Henry blinked at him. “Is that really how you feel about love? As a defect you can use to your advantage?”

The waiter, who had come to refill their drinks, chuckled.  He gave Sherlock a knowing look.  “Our Mr. Holmes here is quite a heartbreaker, at least that’s what I’ve read in all the papers.”  

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “We’re good, here, Charlie.” Charlie winked and went off to another table.  Henry looked askance.  Sherlock sighed.  “I guess being in Dartmoor you wouldn’t have read the local rags.  I dated and then dumped a woman named Janine and she got her revenge by selling her story.”  Henry stared at him, appalled.  “Look, she knew what kind of man I am and she fell in love with me anyway.  I used that to gain access to her boss’s office.”

Henry leaned back in his chair.  “Wow.  This is incredible.  Anyone else?  Any other women that you took advantage of?”

Sherlock looked down. He cleared his throat.  “There is a woman that had a crush on me and I would sometimes compliment her to get her to do favors for me.”

Henry shook his head. “Well, that doesn’t sound as dramatic. Still crappy, though.  Did she ever catch onto your act?”

Sherlock smiled.  “Oh yes.  She knows me pretty well by now.”

“And I’m guessing the crush has been completely crushed?”

Sherlock shook his head slowly.  “No. She fell in love with me.”  He found himself feeling suddenly very agitated. His adrenaline was spiking.  He checked his mobile.  Nothing.  Damnit!

Henry laughed in disbelief. “She knows you’re a cad and she still fell in love with you?  You must think she’s pretty stupid.”

“She’s not stupid!” Sherlock’s snarled response was much louder than he intended.  Several other patrons glanced over at them.  Well, chalk it up to more alibi witnesses.

Henry was startled.  He held up his hands.  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply that I thought she was stupid. I feel sorry for her.  I just thought with your views on love that you would think she is.”

“Well, I don’t.  I happen to have a great deal of respect for her.”

Henry nodded.  “Well that’s good.  Does that mean you won’t take advantage of her love for you?”

Sherlock’s heart was hammering.  The adrenaline was continuing to flood him.  All he could think was danger, danger, danger.  Molly was in danger.  “No, of course not.  I don’t want to hurt her, not ever again.”

Henry was looking at him with narrowed eyes.  “Sherlock, was she the one you were thinking about earlier?”

Sherlock checked his mobile again.  Still nothing.  He wanted to toss the damned thing across the restaurant.  “You mean, was I mooning over Molly?”  He tried to force a laugh.  It caught in his throat.  “Yes. Yes I was, Henry.  I was thinking how very much I want to be dancing with her right now.”

Henry’s eyes lit up. “So I was right!  Wait, so what does this mean?  There’s this woman, Molly, who’s in love with you.  And right now you can’t get her out of your head. Does that mean you’re in love with her?”

Sherlock glared at him. “No, of course not.  Don’t be stupid.  That would be a disaster.  An unmitigated disaster.”

Henry’s smile screwed up into a frown.  “What does that mean?  How can love be a disaster?  Is she married or something?”

Sherlock rubbed his forehead with his fingers.  “No, nothing like that.  Love has no business being part of a focused, intellectual mind.  It’s the grit in a sensitive instrument.  I am all about science, deduction, logic.  Every decision I make must be rational and free of sentiment or else it is worthless.  Dangerous, even.  Let me give you an example.  Right now, as we speak, there is a strategy being played out.  A plan that is flawless in its logic.  One of the most well-ordered minds I know came up with it. I should be perfectly content to sit back and let it run its course.  But because Molly is one of the participants, I am sitting here using every ounce of will I possess not to run after her and destroy the entire mission.”

Henry blinked.  “Is she in danger?”

“I have every reason to believe, up here,” he pointed towards his brain, “that she is in capable hands with someone I trust not to put her at risk.  But here,” he put his hand over his heart and crushed the fabric of his shirt, “I feel nothing but terror.  Helpless terror.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “Maybe you should go to her.  To hell with the plan!”

Sherlock shook his head. “She would never forgive me.  She knows her own mind, and if I interfere with her decision it would be like saying I don’t think she’s capable of taking care of herself.  No, I have to let her do this.”  Henry chuckled.  Sherlock frowned at him.  “What?”

Henry spread his hands. “Well, there you have an example of a decision made using both logic and love.”  Sherlock stared at him a moment, then started chuckling himself.  

Henry stopped laughing and narrowed his eyes.  “Did you agree to go out with me so that I would distract you from the mission and Molly?”

“Um, in a roundabout way, yes.”

Henry nodded.  “Well, I have just the thing for distracting you. Let’s go to a casino!  It must be like a carnival for a mind like yours.”

Sherlock smiled. “Yes, it is quite fun.  I should mention that there’s only one casino left in London that hasn’t permanently banned me.”

Henry burst out laughing. “Well, that sounds like a challenge to me.”

Sherlock and Henry spent the next couple of hours completely frustrating the casino staff.  It wasn’t distracting enough to keep him from checking his mobile every five minutes.  But it was enough to stave off the urge to go after Molly.  Finally, when Sherlock was starting to worry that the manager was going to kick them out, he got the text from Greg.   “all over were ok come to st barts”  He’d never seen such a grammatically poor text from Greg.  He must be injured.  Sherlock looked up at Henry.  “Sorry to run off, Henry.  The mission’s complete.  I have to go to Molly.  Keep the winnings!”

“I understand, mate. Good luck!”  Sherlock barely heard him, he was already running out the door.

The taxi ride to St. Barts was interminable.  There was a ton of traffic.  He kept checking his mobile for news reports of the fundraiser, which had taken place at a theater near the hospital.  During the auction, someone shouted from somewhere above the main stage that there was a gun and to get down.  Someone was seen falling from a balcony.  It was pretty much chaos after that.  He tried texting Greg for more details but got no response.  Ditto with Molly.  He checked the locations of their mobiles.  Greg’s was at the hospital, Molly’s was at the theater.  Why was it at the theater?  Sherlock was frustrated beyond belief.  

The closer they got to St. Bart’s, the more crowded the traffic.  Obviously a result of the incident at the fundraiser.  Finally he threw some money at the driver and got out to run.  When he got to the hospital, there were police officers everywhere.  He barked at the nearest cop, “I need to see Greg Lestrade.”

The cop frowned at him, then seemed to recognize him.  “Yeah, he’s in A&E getting patched up.”

“What about Molly Hooper?” The guy shrugged and turned his back.

Sherlock ran to the A&E, calling out Greg’s name.  An annoyed worker finally directed him to where Greg was being treated for a broken arm. Greg smiled.  “Sorry for that rubbish text, mate.  I had a bit of trouble.  Then they took my mobile and were bombarding me with questions so I couldn’t answer.”  

Sherlock nodded, trying to smile, but he was still worried.  “Molly?”

“She’s around here somewhere.  Her leg is broken, but otherwise she’s fine.”  

Sherlock exhaled in relief. “What happened?”

“He was right where Mary thought he’d be.  He was in this alcove behind the stage that could be accessed only by a set of stairs. I went to the alcove on the opposite side and got the pictures of him setting up, then went around to go confront him.  I left Molly at the bottom of the stairs.  When I burst in on him, he was so enraged that he stood up and pointed the gun at the crowd, waving it around trying to find his target.  I think he was determined to finish what he started. I yelled down to the crowd that there was a gun and to get down.  The Baron must have ducked out of sight because Neilson screamed in fury and swung the rifle around at me.  The space was too small so he only managed to knock me off kilter.  I grabbed onto him and he shoved me away from him.  That caused him to lose his balance and go over the side, and I took a header down the stairs.  Molly was waiting at the bottom and I fell onto her.  Last I heard, Neilson didn’t survive the fall.”

“So it was a success after all.”

“Not completely.  We were hoping to take Neilson in without the Baron having any idea that an attempt was made on his life.  That’s been shot to hell.  Mycroft will have his hands full with this one.”

“I’m sure that I’ll be getting a call from him to finish what I started in Serbia.  Well, thanks Greg.  I really appreciate this more than you can know.”

Greg grinned.  “Well, I’m just glad that I could finally do something for you that involved more than best man speeches.”

Sherlock clapped him on the back.  “I’m going to go find Molly.”  He said this off-handedly, as if she were an afterthought.  The truth was that he’d been itching to get to her.  He needed to see her face.

He annoyed another A&E worker until she showed him where Molly was.  He ducked into the room and saw that she was almost finished.  The nurse was telling her how to use the crutches. She laughed.  “Oh, I know how.  I broke my other leg skiing when I was at university.”  

Molly looked up and saw Sherlock.  Her face broke out into a grin.  “Sherlock!” He came into the room and studied her. Her hair was disheveled, and there was a big slit in her dress where they had needed to work on her leg.  But otherwise she looked perfect.  He went over and enveloped her in a tight hug. “You see, Sherlock, I’m okay! Everything went okay!”  He pulled back a little, but kept his hands on her arms. “We actually had a good time.  I was full of nerves, of course, but we danced a lot and there was the banquet.”  She wrinkled her nose.  “The food wasn’t very good, I’m pretty sure it’s the same folks that do the cafeteria. When it was actually time to carry out the plan, it was over in a flash.”

He rubbed his hands up and down her arms.  “I’m glad. I was very worried.  How come you didn’t answer your mobile afterward? ”

“Oh!  I completely forgot about it.  It was in my clutch at the banquet table.  I left it there while we were dancing.”

“Why didn’t you keep it on you?”

She laughed.  “And where would I have put it?”  She waved her hands down her dress.  

He took his time perusing the length of her.  “Yes, you have a point there.”  Her cheeks turned pink.  He finally settled his eyes on her broken leg.  “I guess you won’t be doing much dancing for awhile.  It’s a shame, I really want to take you dancing.  I never got to dance with you at John and Mary’s wedding.

She blinked several times in surprise.  “Oh! Well, this will only be on a month or so, then I would love to go dancing with you.”  She looked pleased and confused at the same time.

“That’s not soon enough, Molly.  Is there any type of dancing we can do that doesn’t require your leg?”

“Um, well, I can think of a few things, though they might not technically call it dancing.”  Molly flushed bright red, as if she couldn’t believe she said that out loud.  

Sherlock narrowed his eyes. “Really?  Are you sure you don’t need your leg for that?”

She stared at him. Her hand came up and she nervously rubbed her neck.  “Well, I haven’t put it to the test.  I wasn’t with anyone the last time I broke my leg.  But theoretically I think it’s possible.”

He nodded pensively. “Okay, as soon as you’re discharged, I’ll take you home and we’ll put your theory to the test.  For science.”

Her eyes widened and she exhaled in shock.  “Sherlock! What’s gotten into you?”

“Grit, Molly,” he said with a gleam in his eyes.  “Grit.”

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I randomly inserted a Doctor Who character in here. I just love Donna. I make a joke about the connection in my wholock story Butchery at St. Barts.


End file.
